


make this chaos count

by teacupandhellbeast



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Sex, Miscarriage, Recovery, this is happier than the summary makes it seem i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6988165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupandhellbeast/pseuds/teacupandhellbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No, you're not doing this again. You've shut me out once before and look where that got us.” She immediately knows what he's talking about and her gut turns to lead. </p><p>“We're not discussing that either,” she says, her tone harsh and clipped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	make this chaos count

Bobbi squints into the blinding light, slowly cataloging all the residual aches and pains. She's just out of her fourth surgery, as far as she knows, and while it's harder to breathe, her chest doesn't scream in pain when her ribcage expands to allow in air. 

“There she is,” Lance announces proudly from the doorway and she cracks a smile, twisting her head to get a better view. “How do you feel?” 

“Like my shoulder was ripped open and my knee was shattered. Oh wait.” She chuckles softly, her laughter instantly dying away as his face falls. “I'm fine, Hunter. Same as after every other surgery.” He takes his seat once again and laces his fingers with hers, careful not to squeeze too hard. 

“And mentally?” She blinks and she's met with the image of him lying on the concrete, blood spilling from the hole between his eyes, and she can't hide her flinch in time. “Bob-.”

“I can live with a few bad dreams,” she mutters, dropping her gaze to her lap, anything to avoid looking into his eyes and finding pain there. 

“I've had my fair share of nightmares. You can talk to me.” He sighs and her brain twists it into his last breath leaving his body, and she grips tighter, hissing when her fingertips ache in protest. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You don't have to stay with SHIELD, Hunter, I know it's not you. It never has been.”

“That is… not what we’re discussing right now.”

“I don't want to be the thing holding you back,” Bobbi offers quietly and she hates the way her voice cracks; she blames it on lack of moisture.

“No, you're not doing this again. You've shut me out once before and look where that got us.” She immediately knows what he's talking about and her gut turns to lead. 

“We're not discussing that either,” she says, her tone harsh and clipped. She tugs her hand free from his grasp and drops it to her lap, ignoring the urge to press against the flat of her stomach. 

This miscarriage was something she refused to talk about. He'd been there, right by her side the entire time, but she'd shut him out completely, throwing herself into mission after mission, while he lost himself in the bottom of a bottle. It had been the start of the end. 

If she never thought about it, it wouldn't hurt, or so she told herself.

“That's the thing, we've never discussed it!” She swallows thickly, allowing herself to rub her thumb along her stomach, and he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Sorry, look, I'll just-.” Lance gets up, walks halfway to the door after sensing that any good mood had been effectively killed. 

“You don't have to leave,” she chokes out, a lump forming in her throat as her insides hollow out. He turns over his shoulder, head tilted to the side, and she ducks her head in a quick nod, letting her hand fall to her side, palm facing the ceiling - an open invitation. 

“If you're sure.” She nods, more assured this time, and she can see him hesitate as he makes his way back. “We don't have t-.”

“Yes we do,” she interrupts softly, ignoring the tears pricking the backs of her eyes. “We never did. You deserve that much.” He carefully places his hand in hers and a tear spills over, burning as it slides down her cheek. Lance is quick to brush it away, cupping her cheek in his hand, and she leans into it. 

“We don't have to do it now, sweetheart.” She covers her hand with his and nods, slotting her fingers in the spaces between his. “When you're ready.”

-

Her face screws up in pain before morphing into a mix of anger and determination. Bobbi lets out a strangled grunt as she steps forward, actually putting weight on her leg. She manages to hold it for a second or two before she's reaching for the bars at her side, hissing when pain flares up in her shoulder as well. 

“You al-.”

“Don't,” she growls between gritted teeth, glaring at Lance. Some part of her feels bad because he's done nothing wrong, but she doesn't want his pity. Sighing, she walks her hands backward until she's somewhat straightened out, left hip resting against the bar. “I’m sorry. Shit, I'm sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” Lance says, walking between the bars to stand right in front of her, fingers gently encircling her wrists. “Do what you need to. This is _your_ PT; it's stressful, I get it.” The corner of her mouth quirks upward for a second and she drops her head to his shoulder. 

“You're too good,” she mumbles, wishing she could wrap herself up in him. “How much longer do I have?”

“Fifteen minutes,” the nurse chimes in, sounding bemused, and Bobbi heaves a sigh. “But if you can take ten steps, five with your right foot, we'll call it a day.” She groans softly into his shoulder and he chuckles, bringing one hand up to curl around her neck briefly. 

“C’mon Bob, walk to me,” he encourages, taking a few steps backward, effectively distancing them, and she narrows her eyes at him. 

“I’m not a child, Hunt-.”

“Ten steps and I'll go down on you.” Bobbi grumbles softly to herself but swings her right leg around nonetheless; she's not about to turn down sex. “There you go. One down, nine to go.”

She pauses, gripping the bars tightly as she prepares herself. Putting all her weight on her right foot is something she hasn't done yet, and her heartbeat thuds loudly in her ears. Lance takes a step forward and she closes her eyes as she tightens her grip. 

She manages to move her left foot somewhat ahead of her right, pain radiating from her hip to her toes. Her bottom lip tastes of copper as she bites down on it to keep from crying out. 

“Bob? Are y-.”

“I’m _fine_.” 

Eight steps later and she's starting to break out into a sweat, panting into the side of his neck as he murmurs words of encouragement. 

“Very good, Agent Morse. I’ll let the doctor know you're done for the day,” the nurse interjects quietly and Lance thanks her as she leaves. 

“Bed?” Bobbi asks breathlessly, clasping her hands behind his neck. He doesn't even hesitate as he sweeps her off her feet, carrying her to the wheelchair near the door like she weighs nothing. She doesn't protest it either anymore, both being carried and the wheelchair; she may hate it, but it hurts less than attempting to do it herself and walk. 

“Is your leg okay?” he asks after she settles in the chair, and she nods, face screwing up nonetheless. Lance drops a kiss to her temple as he walks behind the wheelchair, and he wheels her back to their bunk. She does protest when he lifts her _into_ bed, but he ignores it and pulls the covers up to her chin.

“Hey Hunter?” She winces at how timid she sounds, but he sits next to her hip and laces her fingers with his, clearly waiting for her to say what she wants. 

“I'd-.” The words catch on the lump in her throat and she swallows thickly, forcing herself to continue on. He squeezes her hand and she smiles in spite of herself. “We should talk about it.”

“Bob,” he says softly, mouth turning down in a frown, “what are you-.” Realization hits him and he blinks several times, scrambling to say something. “Oh.”

“Can't exactly stop thinking about it. Actually, it crossed my mind when Wa-.” Her throat closes up at the mere thought of his name and she takes a steadying breath. “ _He_ had me.”

Lance crawls over her, careful to avoid her knee, pushing at her good shoulder until she turns slightly and he can lie behind her, pressed along the line of her back. Their clasped hands settle over her stomach and it's suddenly hard to hear over her heartbeat, thudding loudly in her ears. 

“What do you wanna talk about?” she asks hoarsely, leaning into his body, and she feels him shrug. 

“I. Well. I mean.” He sighs, breath ghosting across her neck, and she shivers at the change in temperature. “I guess I've always wondered why you pulled away.” 

Bobbi squeezes her eyes shut and nods, gripping his hand tighter. “I did, yeah. It was hard to see your face and the pity and disappointment, and to live with myself, knowing I caused that. Going on all those missions, never being around, that made it easier.” His fingers splay out over her stomach, hand sliding off hers, and she manages to hold herself still and not flinch away. 

“I wasn't disappointed. I mean, I was, but not in you, love,” he explains softly, and she nods, slotting her pinky between his thumb and forefinger. “It killed me to watch you lose yourself, you know.” He presses his leg between hers and she sighs in relief as the slight ache in her knee fades away. 

“I felt it.”

“You what?” he responds immediately, pushing up onto his elbow so he can see her better. “What, did you feel the baby-.”

“No. God, no, nothing like that.” He settles behind her once more and she exhales softly, gently pressing in on her stomach. “I could feel the moment I lost it. Them.” Her throat closes up suddenly and she slumps back into him; it doesn't feel like she’s shouldering the weight of this by herself anymore, and it’s… nice. 

Lance blows out a breath against her neck and she nods, eyelids sliding shut. “You never…”

“I know.” He pulls her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and she tilts her head to rest against his. “There's no way to explain it - what it feels like when something growing inside you dies.” Her voice gives out on the last word and she feels something splash, hot on her neck. Bobbi presses her hand to his cheek and turns her head into his even more, both of them taking comfort in each other. 

“I’m sorry I didn't fight for us,” she breathes after a few moments of silence, and he shudders against her, arm winding around her waist. “I'm sorry I left.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he mutters into her skin and she stares off into the distance. 

“Lance,” she says softly and he immediately sits up, fingertips drifting over her knee, fussing over her with the sorry that something hurts. She tangles her fingers with his and squeezes gently, forcing herself to look in his eyes, to face the emotions that she's so used to running from. 

“I love you,” he whispers and she smiles at him; if she'd opened her mouth a few seconds earlier, she would've beaten him to the punch. 

“I love you too,” she admits openly, tearing down the last wall in place between them. Leaning down, Lance slants his mouth over hers in a gentle kiss and she sighs against his lips.

He settles against her back once more and hums contentedly as he tucks his chin in the crook of her neck. “So, about my reward for those ten steps,” she jokes, trying to break the heavy air around them, and he snorts. “I was thinking-.”

“After you rest,” he interjects and she blows out a breath, “and, as long as you want.”

“See, now I love you even more.”

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from anonymous: "Bobbi and Lance discuss the loss of their child while Bobbi is recovering after being tortured and shot." 
> 
> title from jupiter by sleeping at last
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bobbiimorses) || [tumblr](http://teacupandhellbeast.tumblr.com/)


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